


don't call me baby (unless you mean it)

by the_tenerife_sea



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, sorry sara :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_tenerife_sea/pseuds/the_tenerife_sea
Summary: “Are you sure you're okay?” Shane asks when Ryan doesn’t move.No,he wants to say.How are you okay? I don't understand how you're so good at pretending -- how you seem fucking fine with cheating on your--Fuck.Shane’s eyes finally do flicker up to meet Ryan’s. Ryan hates himself for wanting to kiss him, for always wanting to kiss him.“I’m fine,” is what he says.





	don't call me baby (unless you mean it)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading fanfiction for five years, yet I've never written or posted anything I actually liked. This is a first.
> 
> Disclaimer: Shane cheats on Sara in this fic. If you have a huge problem with that, please don't read this or leave me a nasty comment. I don't know why this is the au my brain became so attached to. Also Helen isn't dating Ryan in this.
> 
> Do people still say they don't own the stuff they write fanfiction about? Yeah I don't own Buzzfeed
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy.
> 
> Title from Dive by Ed Sheeran
> 
> Edit: I'm adding this just in case it's not stressed enough but cheating? is not good. I'm not condoning cheating, but yeah this is fanfiction and this idea inspired me more so than other ideas I had. ANYWAY.

“Shane.”

His name tastes bitter on Ryan’s lips.

“What?”

He wonders if Shane’s words taste the same.

Ryan curls in on himself more at the thought and faces the bathroom where Shane is putting in his contacts. The bed is colder without him in it, the crisp, white hotel sheets feeling scratchy on Ryan’s skin. He swallows, but the bitter taste in his mouth still won't go away. “What are we doing?”

Shane pauses and blinks at himself in the mirror. He turns to look at Ryan, his movements stiff and controlled. _Conceal, don't feel,_ Ryan thinks. He really hates Shane for insisting they watch Frozen on the plane ride here.

Shane makes his way back to the bed, his giraffe legs carrying him over in barely two strides. His hands come to rest on Ryan’s cheeks as he kisses him, deep and slow. Ryan can feel every muscle in his body loosen at the drag of Shane’s lips against his, head going fuzzy and reasoning escaping him. Kissing Shane is everything he thought it would be and more.

Ryan is about to give into the need to undress Shane for the second time in 12 hours when Shane finally pulls back. He tucks an invisible hair behind Ryan’s ear and says, “Don't worry about it, Ry.” 

Shane’s lips meet his once more, and Ryan doesn't ask again.

 

\---

 

The first time it happened, Ryan doesn't know why he didn't stop it.

Well. He knows why he didn't stop it, but. He _should_ have stopped it.

They’d just gotten back to the hotel after filming and Ryan was watching Shane unpack his bag from his spot on his bed. They were only going to be there one night, but Shane always said he felt better if he laid all his clothes out on top of his suitcase. Shane’s need to organize was a perfect complement to Ryan’s controlled chaos.

Like many other times, Ryan was picturing himself walking up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Kissing him.

It was like Shane was reading his mind, because suddenly he turned around. There was a tension in the room that wasn't unfamiliar, on Ryan’s end at least, and Ryan held his breath, unsure how to react or what to do.

He was about to turn away, brush it off with a laugh and a “dude”, then probably get lost in another fantasy where Shane loved him back, when Shane abruptly crossed the room in one, two, three steps, and kissed him.

And Ryan -- of course Ryan kissed him back, he didn't put up much of a fight, if any fight. He’s...he’s wanted this for so long and it was actually happening and he didn’t _want_ it to stop, but--

Sara.

He still didn't stop it.

 

\---

 

It’s weird, being in the office after a location shoot. 

Not weird in the way where a desk and a chair feel confining after being gone for a while, especially when doing something as fun as Unsolved, but in the way where the man he’s been fucking all weekend has a girlfriend.

Ryan can see the picture of Sara that Shane keeps on his desk. He can also see the little freckle on Shane’s neck, the one his tongue mapped over in the early hours of yesterday, and he remembers the _noise_ Shane had made. It was the best sex he’s had in his life _, will_ ever have in his life--

“You okay, buddy?” Shane asks suddenly, and Ryan snaps out of his daze.

He should be embarrassed that he was caught staring, but he’s struggling to get any words out because the bitter taste in his mouth is back.

“Yeah,” he finally replies, the silence stretching for a beat too long. “Spaced out a bit.”

Shane gives him a concerned look that almost counteracts his use of the word ‘buddy’. Almost. They make eye contact and Shane immediately looks back at his computer screen.

Ryan clears his throat roughly. “I think I’m gonna head out early, actually.” He starts to stand, tugging at his jacket he left hanging over the back of his chair and gathering his things.

Shane lets out a dry laugh that doesn’t really fit the situation. “You’re not sick, are you?”

Ryan shakes his head, even though the churning in his gut makes him feel like he's going to be sick. “Nah, just tired, I think.”

Shane laughs again, sounding even more forced. “At least your not sick. We just spent two whole days in a hotel room together,” _touching, cuddling, kissing,_ “I hope to god you're not sick. The last thing I need is to get sick.”

Ryan laughs too, halfheartedly and about as forced as Shane’s. “Yeah.”

Shane’s face has no expression, he hasn’t even looked back at Ryan since he’d started talking. He’s just mindlessly clicking through his email, opening already read messages.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Shane asks when Ryan doesn’t move.

 _No,_ he wants to say. _How are you okay? I don't understand how you're so good at pretending -- how you seem fucking fine with cheating on your--_

Fuck.

Shane’s eyes finally do flicker up to meet Ryan’s. Ryan hates himself for wanting to kiss him, for always wanting to kiss him. 

“I’m fine,” is what he says.

It’s all fucked.

 

\---

 

“Shane.”

His name sounds like it’s being punched out of Ryan. There are lips moving from his ear to his neck and it’s anything but soothing, riling him up in the best way possible. Ryan grips Shane’s hips, pulling him even closer.

Shane crowded him up against the hotel room door as soon as it shut behind them, and now Ryan is surrounded by him. Shane is in front of him, above him, god he’s so fucking _tall._  

“Bed,” Ryan’s head falls forward onto Shane’s chest. “Shane, please. _Bed.”_

One of Shane’s hands finds his face, his thumb lingering on his cheek. He brings their lips together in a rough kiss. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, Ry. I’ll take you to bed.”

Ryan fucking moans at that, pushing Shane backward until they both fall against the mattress. He straddles Shane’s hips, feeling his hard-on against his own through their jeans. Why are they still wearing jeans?

Ryan sees Shane’s phone light up with Sara’s picture on the nightstand once Shane is finally inside him. He pulls Shane in for a kiss and pretends they're in love for a bit longer.

 

\---

 

“I bet,” Shane’s smug ass starts. “You can’t go one day without talking about ghosts. _Or_ aliens.”

Ryan scoffs, “How the fuck am I supposed to do that when we’re literally constantly surrounded by spirits and shit--”

“See, you’ve already lost.”

Ryan drops his head onto his desk. “You’re an asshole.”

“No, I’m right.”

Ryan grumbles, his cheek squished against the hard surface of his desk. “I could probably go one day without talking about aliens.” 

“Nope, too late. You’ve already lost.”

Ryan can’t stop his grin. “You suck.”

Shane rolls his eyes, his stare lingering on Ryan’s face a bit too long to be considered friendly and platonic before he turns back towards his computer. Ryan’s heart does _not_ beat faster at that. “So I’ve heard, Shane continues, but he's not finished, “Meet me in the bathroom in 5.” Then he gets up and leaves.

Ryan’s too shocked to call after him.

See, he knows what they’ll do in the bathroom. But this time they’re at work. In public. Where there are people. That somehow still doesn’t stop Ryan from getting up 5 minutes later to head towards the bathroom.

He opens the door and Shane immediately shuts and locks it behind him, pushing Ryan to the opposite wall and kissing him senseless. Ryan is waiting for Shane to press his crotch against his, to get down on his knees, to make this dirty.

But all he does is pull away softly, kissing Ryan’s nose and pressing his forehead against his. “You’re so fucking cute. I could barely stop myself from kissing you out there in front of everyone.”

Ryan looks at him like he’s crazy. “I...What?”

Shane laughs, and it sounds magical. “You’re like. The cutest person in the whole world. And I wanted to kiss you.”

“Uh...Thank you?”

Shane presses his lips against Ryan's again, and it...it means something more than sex. It has to. 

His eyes are warm and fond. Ryan’s knees feel like jelly.

“You’re welcome, cutie.”

 

\---

 

Shane’s cheeks are as red as the wine they've been drinking.

They’d just finished filming at Viaduct Tavern, and tipsy Shane decided that ordering two room service bottles of wine was a good idea. Something about how English hotel wine should be better than American hotel wine. Ryan doesn't even think hotel wine is a thing.

Shane is bubbly and cuddly, his head resting on Ryan’s shoulder and his almost empty bottle of wine clenched in both hands. They’re sitting on what's supposed to be Ryan’s bed, but they both know they'll be sharing it. Shane laughs at something on the TV and when Ryan looks at him, he can’t help but think, _yeah. Getting wine was a good idea._

Some time later, Shane has managed to squirm himself down the bed so he can rest his head in Ryan’s lap, ditching his now empty bottle on the nightstand where Ryan’s barely touched his own. Ryan only hesitates a second before he runs his fingers through his soft, light hair, and Shane’s content sigh makes his heart skip.

It’s been silent between them for a while, the TV playing some British sitcom, when Shane, with the clarity of someone who hasn't been drinking alcohol for the past four-ish hours, says, “I think Sara knows.”

Ryan’s heart skips (more like drops) for an entirely different reason now, his back straightening and hand becoming taut in Shane’s hair, feeling entirely too sober for what’s probably about to happen. Shane thinks that Sara knows. What would Sara know, involving Ryan and Shane, that isn’t about them fucking every time they film offset? Ryan is about to get dumped -- fuck, he can’t even say that, they’re not together, but still -- he’s about to get dumped. He forces a chuckle through his throat and decides to play dumb. “Knows what?”

Shane shuffles, looking up at Ryan with dazed and shiny eyes, eyes that shouldn’t be looking at him like that. “I think…” Shane starts, his hand that was tucked against his side reaching across his chest to touch Ryan’s tummy. “Sara knows.” And he -- Shane starts giggling.

The tension in Ryan’s body whooshes out with a breath, and he can’t stop himself from laughing with him as he shoves Shane’s hand away. “Stop poking me you dumbass. It tickles.” But Shane thinks Ryan’s protests are even _more_ hilarious, and keeps trying to stick his hands up Ryan’s shirt, wheezing out, “I wasn’t even poking you! I just wanted to feel your rock hard abs.” Ryan goes to grab his hands but Shane wiggles out of his grip and suddenly they’re wrestling on top of the bed. Ryan goes for the armpits, making Shane flail.

“This is what you get!” Ryan is laughing so hard he’s nearly crying. “This is what you fucking get you giant oaf--” Shane’s arm hits one of the bottles on the nightstand, sending it flying to the floor. “Oh shit.” Ryan peers over the edge of the bed. “Thank god you drank the entire fucking bottle or else we would be paying for carpet cleaning.” He looks up to grin at Shane, but Shane isn’t laughing anymore. “Hey, dude, what’s wrong -- oh,” he starts to ask, but Shane’s hands are on his hips and he’s pulling Ryan towards himself, one hand moving to cup the back of his neck. Ryan’s body is helpless to his emotions as Shane’s lips meet his. He tastes sweet, even though the hotel wine was bitter and kinda disappointing, to be honest. Ryan whines when Shane straddles his hips, but he has to stop this because --

“Shane,” Ryan turns his head. “Not tonight. You’re drunk.”

Shane huffs and collapses on top of Ryan. “But that’s what Sara _knows_.”

Ryan’s brain is still foggy, from both the wine and the kissing. “That you’re drunk?”

“No,” and Ryan can nearly hear Shane rolling his eyes. “That I’m in love with you.”

He’s wanted to hear those words for the past year and a half but -- but not like this.

“Shane…” Ryan sounds angry, maybe he is. “Are you...are you serious dude?”

Shane props himself up on his elbows so he can look at Ryan. “I’ve loved you...since the first time I kissed you I think,” he whispers, but his voice is impossibly loud in the room they're sharing, his words soft and warm in Ryan’s ears. “Because that was the only thing I wanted to do.” He corrects himself, “The only thing I _want_ to do. Kiss you and touch you,” he traces Ryan’s cheekbone with his pointer finger. “I love you, Ryan Bergara.”

Ryan's heart feels full in the best way possible. This is...this is what he’s been dreaming of. Shane loving him back, Shane choosing _him._ But… 

“What about Sara?” 

“Sara,” Shane says her name with a sigh of distaste. “She...she's comfortable. Familiar. That’s it. I don't want her like I want you.” He buries his face into Ryan’s neck and laughs. “It took me so fucking long to -- to realize that it's _you_ , Ry. It’s always been you.” Ryan’s heart hasn't stopped rabbiting like a jackhammer since Shane’s first love confession, but somehow it feels like it’s beating ridiculously faster now. “You make me laugh. You make me wanna be better. Sara...she never did those things as easy as you have.”

He’s not sure why, but Ryan suddenly feels tears sting his eyes. He runs his hands through Shane’s hair to keep himself grounded, because he just wants to touch him. “You're drunk, Shane.”

“I am. A bit.” Shane answers, turning his head to see Ryan’s face. “But I feel the same as I feel right now when I’m sitting next to you in an empty, dirty house and you're reading about spooky stuff on a sheet of paper.”

Ryan lets out a wet laugh. “Shane, I--” He hugs Shane tighter to himself. “I love you too.”

Shane smiles and kisses his jaw. “Good.” He closes his eyes and lets himself be held, Ryan’s hands moving back up to his head. “Now turn off the lights and the TV. I’m sleepy. And we have a plane to catch tomorrow.” He groans. “Why did you let me get wine, Ryan.” 

“Hey!” Ryan turns off the TV and the lamp on the nightstand. “Nothing can stop you once you've made up your mind.”

“You’re right.” Shane smiles again, his eyes still closed. He looks so soft. “Goodnight, dude.”

Ryan snuggles into him, feeling full and happy, but also like...like something is missing. Or still there he should say, something that's preventing him from one hundred percent enjoying this. But they’ll deal with that later. He’ll think about it later.

“Goodnight, Shane.”

 

\---

 

They have an eight hour plane ride ahead of them. Ryan is dreading it.

Not because plane lasagna sucks and he forgot to download Ozark on Netflix before they got to the airport, but because Shane has barely said a word to him.

At first, Ryan thought it was because he was hungover as hell, he knows wine can give you a nasty headache the next morning, but Shane seemed fine when he woke up. Physically fine, at least.

Ryan was ready to talk it all out that morning, when they were both sober and everything he wanted to hear had already been said. Tell him that they could work. Shane just has to break up with Sara, probably tell her what they’ve been doing, and face the repercussions. But they would be _together._ It could _work_.

But Shane wasn’t in his arms when he woke up, he was on his phone, already dressed, with a cup of coffee in his other hand, sitting up in the second bed. “Oh good, you’re up,” he had said. “We have to leave in an hour.” And that was it.

With the alcohol-confidence gone, Ryan went with it.

But now he’s sitting on a plane, resisting the urge to grab Shane’s hand on the armrest next to him because Shane said he loves him back. They’re really in _love._

Or so he thought.

 

\---

 

It happens again, after the I love yous.

Ryan doesn’t stop it even though they haven’t talked about it.

 _I wanna be yours._ It’s on repeat in Ryan’s head, his hands trailing up and down Shane’s back, probably leaving blunt scratches and gripping bruises in their wake. _I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours._

Ryan must’ve been speaking (or _gasping_ more like) out loud because Shane is suddenly answering him. “You are, Ryan. Fuck. You're mine, baby.” Shane’s body is pressing him down into the mattress, his lips tracing the shell of his ear, and Ryan can almost believe him. One of Shane’s hands is cupping the back of his neck, while the other is gripping the headboard as he continuously rocks into him. Ryan can barely _breathe_ . Shane is everywhere. Shane is _everything._

Shane’s hips slow down to a grind, and Ryan is seeing stars, which is probably why his brain to mouth filter isn't working when he abruptly says, “But you're not mine.”

Shane’s movements come to a halt.

Ryan doesn't know whether to cry because he was so close or because he just fucked everything up even more.

“Ryan…” Shane starts, his hands coming to rest on either side of Ryan’s head, but Ryan is already scrambling, trying to push Shane off of him so he can get away or jump off the balcony or _something._

He’s off Ryan immediately, but when Ryan tries to flee to the bathroom to at least keep _some_ of his dignity intact, not to mention, mourn the loss of any further involvement with the love of his life, Shane grabs his arm. “Ryan, wait, please.”

“Why?” Ryan laughs bitterly, his voice cracking. _Pathetic,_ he thinks, _I’m so fucking pathetic._ “I know what you're gonna say, Shane.” Ryan knew that their... _arrangement_ would come to an end eventually, he’d realized that after Shane told him he loved him and never brought it up again.

Ryan isn't a girl. Ryan isn't Sara. He can't be with Shane, will never be with Shane, even if Shane says he loves him, and that's just how it’s supposed to be. He only wishes he had a little more time with him now that it's all blown up in his face. “You're gonna let me down easy then go off and be happy with your girlfriend that you're cheating on and pretend that _we_ never happened.” He hates how _easy_ it would be for Shane to move on from this, too. How Shane would be able to turn around and walk into the arms of someone else as if he wasn't just calling Ryan baby, saying Ryan was _his_ . It’s not fucking fair. None of this is _fucking fair._

“You--” Ryan is _fuming_. “You said you loved me. And--” his voices cracks again, “And I said I loved you back, and you...you pretended that it never happened. How can you -- how do you--” He’s fucking crying now, and he hates this. He hates every single second of this. But there’s also a feeling of relief because now Shane will either let him go or choose him over Sara, which Ryan kinda thought he did already but-- 

Ryan hates himself for still holding onto any hope.

“You just keep playing with me.” He sniffles. He sounds fucking pathetic. “I love you, Shane. But I feel like shit because of it.”

Shane hasn’t let go of his arm, he’s barely moved actually. But it sorta looks like Ryan is breaking his heart.

“ _Ry,_ ” he chokes. “Ryan, I’m--” He lets go of Ryan’s arm, letting his hand fall limply into his lap. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Ryan really wants to tell him it’s okay, because Ryan loves him and doesn’t like seeing him upset. But it’s really not. It’s not okay.

Shane keeps talking. “I can’t even begin to explain myself.”

“Well,” Ryan grabs his shorts from the floor and pulls them back on over his legs. “You should start somewhere.”

 

\---

 

They both get dressed in awkward silence.

Ryan debates on making hot chocolate with the fancy Keurig in the hotel room, but he doesn’t think that would help either of them. The annoying sound of the water heating up would be better than this, though.

“We should--” he breathes. “We should talk.”

“Yeah,” Shane says, wrapping the hotel comforter around himself. “Well, it all started when I was born probably, you’ve seen my baby pictures, I was _ugly_ \--”

Ryan hits him across the chest, sitting down next to him on the bed. “Shut up. We’re being serious. This is serious.” Shane deflates and looks at his hands.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, you’re right.” He shifts uncomfortably, and talks. “Sara and I…it’s good. It _was_ good,” he stresses. “I could pretend I didn't like guys too, when I was with her.” He glances up at Ryan briefly, “A guy, at least.” Ryan can understand where he’s coming from, but Shane handled this very wrong and very badly, and he has little sympathy for that despite his own involvement. He’s already settled and dealt with his own guilt.

Shane continues. “I’ve always been...not okay with myself,” he says softly, playing with his fingers. “I mean, I’m 30 and I can barely talk about this. I’m dying inside right now, if you couldn’t tell.” He laughs at himself, quiet and self-deprecating. Ryan grabs his hand and Shane flashes him a small smile. “Thanks. But yeah. It’s been. It’s been rough.”

Ryan frowns. “But that doesn’t--” 

“That doesn’t mean I should go and find a girl to date right after I meet you, no,” he interrupts. “Or cheat on her because I can’t handle my own issues. Or tell you I love you then pretend it never happened because it just made everything easier. I mean--” He takes a breath. Ryan wasn't going to say those things, but Shane pretty much summed it up. “I did like Sara, maybe loved her at some point. She was perfect for me. She...she did make me happy.” It hurts Ryan to hear that, even though it shouldn’t. “But then you asked me to do Unsolved when Brent left and...I thought I was over whatever initial attraction I felt towards you. So I said yes.” He rubs the back of his neck with the hand that isn’t holding Ryan’s. “And it sort of spiraled.”

Ryan snorts. “You could say that.” He adds, “I’m...I should have stopped it though, it’s kinda my fault too--” 

“No,” Shane cuts him off with a hard look. “This is all me. I’m the one who cheated on Sara and made you feel like shit and...I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been suffering because of who you like.” Ryan wants to clarify this, if anything. “Your sexuality isn’t bad, Shane. It’s okay to not be straight.”

Shane smiles, looking at their intertwined hands. “I think I know that now. Working at Buzzfeed has helped too, like, I wrote a story about a lesbian wedding and everything.” He lets out a wet laugh. “I think...I think I’ll be okay.” He falls back onto the bed. “I have to talk to Sara.” He lets go of Ryan’s hand and presses his palms against his eyes. “It’s gonna suck. I’m the worst person ever.”

Ryan doesn’t have anything comforting to say to that. “I mean, yeah. You shouldn’t have cheated on her.”

“I shouldn’t have cheated on her,” he repeats.

Ryan lies down next to Shane and kisses his shoulder. “I’ll be here for you, though.”

“Ryan Bergara,” Shane turns to him, serious. “I don’t deserve you.”

Ryan makes a noise and looks at him from under his lashes. “You don’t,” he agrees. “But I love you. And I forgive you. I think Sara will too.”

 

\---

 

Sara is upset, but drunk Shane was right when he said she knew.

Shane said she said it was obvious that they were growing apart, not just because of Shane’s feelings for Ryan, but also because of how Sara's focus was mainly on her career. It explained why they hadn’t done anything in the few months Shane and Ryan had been...together but not.

Shane says he doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive himself.

But Ryan forgave him. Sara forgave him. And Ryan knows Shane will work the rest of his life to make sure that forgiveness is deserved.

But for now, Ryan will just remind Shane that he loves him, and he knows Shane will always say it right back.

They're still doing Unsolved. They don't get hotel rooms with two beds anymore. Ryan can hardly believe this is his life sometimes, doing what he loves with the person he loves most. It’s good.

They’re good.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry the ending is so rushed, this could have an alternate ending that's about 3k words more and 10x more angsty but! This is fine, I think.
> 
> (Shane probably would've been too much of an asshole. Oops.)
> 
> Kudos and comments are nice? You can also yell at me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesau.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
